Scars
by DarknessGothNightPuppyBasket
Summary: Three years after it all first started with Terra's break from the Slave Crown. About a year after it all ended with Kefka's destruction. Setzer and Relm must face some aspects of themselves and their pasts they may not find appealing. NOT RelmXSetze
1. Wild Child

Here's a disclaimer for ya. I don't own the characters from Final Fantasy VI. Square-Enix does. And just to set everyone at ease straight out, this is NOT a Setzer-Relm shipping fic. NOT. I did decide that Relm, in her early teenage years, is probably a little tease, and might have a minor crush on Setzer, the whole "bad boy gambler" thing. But fear not. It ain't going anywhere. My original plan was to have this be a crossover fic, but the story kind of grabbed me and ran before I could get into that. SINCE has decided that author's notes and disclaimers are not fit content for an entire Chapter entry, and I can't assume it WON'T eventually metamorphose into the crossover I intended, and I don't want to give away the nature of the crossover before I decide to write and post it, I'll just say that there may be another disclaimer inserted at the start of a later chapter to cover that. I am not entirely sure where this story's going, or if it will "finish" in any real sense. You have been warned.

**Scars**

by DarknessGothNightPuppyBasket

Started May 08, 2007

Chapter 1: Wild Child

"NO!"

**CRASH.**

"Will you just - eurggh. WHY did I agree to watch you tonight? WHY am I not escorting Celes to the opera instead of Locke? And WHY am I unable to get you to behave!?"

Relm looked at Setzer past the remains of a vase which had cost him quite a lot.

"You really asking?" she said smirking impishly.

"If it will stop you from breaking my things for a while, yes," Setzer replied wearily.

"Fine." The smallish teen sat down on the floor, brushing aside shards of shattered historical artifact.

"You agreed to watch me tonight, AND you're not at the opera, because Celes tricked you into betting on a coin toss whether you or Locke would watch me tonight. You were dumb enough to let Locke make the toss, and were too busy looking at Celes' front in her formal gown to notice when he switched coins. Like usual."

Setzer's face was full of puzzled confusion.

"But I thought of that! We called it in the air this time! And I called it!" he said petulantly.

"Yeah. Good move. Too bad you didn't think of demanding that the coin lie on the ground for the final call, rather than having Locke catch it after the toss."

"I - um - oh. Dammit!" Setzer swung a fist at he wall, almost striking another expensive vase.

"Aw, you missed! Here," Relm said chirpily. And got up, extended a finger, and pushed the vase off the table.

**CRASH.**

"There you go." she said.

"WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THAT!?" demanded Setzer, his usually pale complexion beginning to approach scarlet.

"Because, I'm BOORRRRED!" Relm whined. "Shadow's not in town so I can't play with Interceptor, you won't let me paint your picture, painting still-lifes is BORING, and you won't let me go out, and all you can think of for me to do is for me to go to BED! And going to bed is BORING! At least..." she paused, batting her eyelashes at him. "Alone, it is."

Setzer cringed. She'd been doing this with increasing frequency, lately. Sure, she was cute, but...

"Relm, you're THIRTEEN." he reminded her.

"So?" she said coquettishly, leaning forward to show off what wasn't, in fact, there yet.

"I'm..." - he still had trouble saying it, but in this case it was very relevant - " thirty."

"Oh, pooh," she said. "I grew up with STRAGO, man! Anything that isn't a half-corpse like him is pretty...good..." she trailed off, looking out the window.

Uh-oh. Great. She was thinking about Strago. She had always been mischievous, but when Strago had had a fatal heart attack a year ago, Relm had changed. She had started taking stupid risks, being not just rude but genuinely hurtful to people who cared about her. She had stopped breaking rules so much - and started breaking laws. Gone the little bandanas with pompoms and capes, in came streaked hair dye and leather with studs. Terra had tried hard to integrate her in with the other kids at the orphanage, but it seemed that associating with other children who had suffered loss just made her angrier, and more prone to act out. Eventually, Locke and Celes had taken her in. As Celes had remarked, "Terra, you're still scared of your strength. Much as I regret much of it, I was fully in control of myself during my training, and know how to apply it. If a former Imperial general can't whip that kid into shape, I don't know who can. Besides, if she steals any more stuff, Locke can always break in and put it back before the owner knows it's gone." So Relm had come to live with Celes and Locke, and that had worked out... sort of... so far. She respected Celes' strength and commanding presence, and identified with Locke's sense of mischief. She behaved herself... mostly... when they were around. But when they weren't...

**CRASH.**

"I SAID, LISTEN to me!" shouted Relm angrily.

What? Oh, no.

"Don't space out on me like that! I hate it when I'm talking and you just stay in some stupid memories like a creepy old man!"

"I'm sorry, Relm, but I was just thinking, and - why am _I_ apologizing? You just broke another one of my things!"

"---- you and your things, Setzer! You travel everywhere, see everything, and all you have to show for it are scars and memories and STUFF, cluttering up your airship and your house! When are you going to really ----ing live?"

"Relm, please, calm down - "

"DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! I'M NOT A ----ING CHILD!" Relm screamed, nearly in tears.

"YES, YOU ARE!" Setzer shouted back, nearly in her face. "YOU ARE A VERY BADLY-BEHAVED CHILD WHO HAS GOTTEN HER WAY FAR TOO OFTEN, AND NO-ONE CAN DISCIPLINE YOU PROPERLY BECAUSE YOU STILL HAVE REMNANTS OF MAGICAL POWERS! YOU ARE A DAMNED BRAT, RELM!!!!" Setzer wasn't red now. He was white, shaking with incandescent rage.

Relm made a couple of tiny squeaking noises in the back of her throat as she stared at him, quivering. Then she dashed from the room. "I HATE YOU!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Oh, crap.

"Where are you going?" Setzer called after her, still shaking with emotion, starting to feel weak.

"To BED! ALONE! I'm sure that'll make YOU happy!" she yelled, her voice garbled by tears.

**SLAM.** Door shuts.

Wonderful. Now what should he d-

**WHAM.** Door opens.

"You know what!? On second thought, screw that! I'm going OUT!" came Relm's voice from the hallway.

"NO! Relm, it's not safe!"

"---- you!"

**WHAM.** Door opens. Sound of rain, louder than before.

Oh, _hell._


	2. Into The Rain

Chapter 2 - Into The Rain

Setzer hadn't been kidding about it not being safe. After the business with Kefka was all over, he originally had moved to Jidoor. He could afford it. But there had been the badly hidden sneers. The little comments about how "lucky" he'd been to get his house. There was the tendency of people to look away when he walked down the street. He was rich, but it didn't matter. He was still Not Our Sort, Dear. So he had moved to Zozo. One extreme to another, he knew, but he liked it there. The people there looked him in the eye when he was talking to them. Usually because looking someone in the eye meant _they _looked _you_ in the eye, which meant _their _eye wasn't on their wallet, but… There was no prejudice against him for having come from humbler beginnings. Zozo _was _humble beginnings, every inch of it. There was certainly no prejudice against him for being rich. Being rich meant he had 'got it', and as long as he stuck around, that was a chance for others to 'get it.' Through selling him things, or… otherwise.

He had initially had some trouble with some people with a very… direct approach, when it came to 'getting it' from him. Originally no-one was the slightest bit interested in crossing anyone who'd had a piece of "the power," but as magic slowly started to fade, greed overcame fear in some of the less savoury elements of society. Most of Setzer's combat abilities, however, stemmed more from natural dexterity and metallic cards with razor edges, so the loss of magic didn't affect him much. After about ten separate attempts to liberate his things, the number missing fingers in town spoke louder than words, and people stopped trying. The people of Zozo were a pack of thieves and hoodlums, but they were _honest_ about it. Not honest about much else, particularly the time of day for some reason, but their nature, they were up front about. Setzer appreciated that. He'd had enough pretence to last him several lifetimes. He liked the gloomy climate, the constant rain so close to sunny Jidoor being an anomaly that he appreciated the irony of. But outside his loft, protected by his reputation as the man whose hand was quicker than your eye's ability to dodge, Zozo was a tough town.

And Relm had just charged out into it. At night. Alone.

"_Dammit!_" Setzer shouted as he snapped out of his reverie. He really _was_ starting to act like an old man, drifting off into memory at the most inconvenient moments. How long had it been? He glanced at the clock. It had stopped working again. Damn, damn, damn! Must be the humidity here. Clockwork turned into a clump of rust very quickly in Zozo.

He slid open a drawer in an end table and grabbed a deck of razorcards and a bundle of darts. He glanced at the top of the table, at his tiny pocket slot machine. It had been unreliable since magic had started to fade, but when had it _ever_ been really reliable? He shrugged, and pocketed it. He looked in the drawer to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, saw his battle dice. No. Even if magic loss hadn't rendered them into mere oddities, they weren't reliable. And – and that was more than enough considering. He had to get GOING. He went to the closet, threw on his leather duster for what minimal protection it might afford him, and strode into the night.


	3. Water Rondo

Very minor disclaimer: If Locke/Celes shipping and low-grade playful fluff make you vomit, be prepared. You will feel queasy while reading some of this chapter. Also, despite the title, there's no Mog content in this chapter. I just liked the combination of water (raining in Zozo) and music (opera). Maybe later. Oh, and also? The character Veledd and his lot are mine, though I can't say as anyone else would want them. Everyone else © Square-Enix.

Chapter 3: Water Rondo 

A lone soprano voice flowed through the darkness of the opera house.

Locke nudged Celes in the side with his elbow.

"Wow! That Maria's sure a looker, eh?" he whispered in Celes' ear with a smirk.

The elegantly garbed blonde tapped him lightly on the top of the head with her fan.

"You know I only let you get away with that because she and I are identical," she replied.

"Yeah, but really! Look at those - ow!" Locke broke off as she tapped him again, not lightly.

"That's enough of that," Celes said placidly, not looking away from the performance.

"Yes, sir, ma'am, General ma'am sir," Locke hissed playfully at his wife.

"Good," she said, her brow furrowing in mild annoyance in a way that Locke found indescribably cute even in the darkness of the box.

"Permission to speak, General ma'am sir?" he hissed.

"Denied," she retorted in an aggravated whisper. "Watch the opera, or at least quietly stare at Maria."

"Too bad, I'm not one of your subordinates. Don't need permission," he said. "I was just wondering how Setzer's faring with Relm? I mean, last time –"

"I'm sure last time was a fluke. He's fine. Watch the opera."

"Okay. Hey, look at those – "

"Shut _up_, Locke," Celes hissed, indicating playtime was over.

"Yes, dear," he said in an overly repentant voice.

Then, wisely, he shut up.

scenebreakscenebreakscenebreakscenebreak

Setzer was _not _fine. He was cold and worried and wet and worried and annoyed and worried and tired. He was also angry enough that he wasn't sure whether Relm was in more danger from him or the local thugs. From what this author has gathered, this state of mind is known as "most of child-rearing." He had no idea how long he'd been looking for Relm now – everyone he asked the time lied to him, a local custom that became less charming with age – and he'd just had to add perforations to some thugs that hadn't known or didn't believe his reputation and had tried to jump him.

"Too old for this," he muttered, fingering a fresh wound that would probably add itself to his collection of permanent scars within a few days.

He jumped involuntarily as a high-pitched scream reached his ears from nearby. It might be Relm, it might not.

He checked his deck. Good to go.

"Too damn old," he said, as he ran down the alley towards the sound

scenebreakscenebreakscenebreakscenebreak

Relm liked these guys. Oh, sure, they seemed to lie about everything, but when they'd come into the pub, the barkeep had immediately stopped arguing with her about whether he could serve her and opened up a private room at the back for them. A _private room_. That was cool. And then they'd invited her to come back with them, and they hadn't called her "girlie" or "miss" or "little lady", or any of the other names she hated. They'd called her "chick," which wasn't her favourite name, but it was a, a _damn_ sight better than "kid!"

And they didn't seem to care about _anything_. Which was cool, because neither did she. Didn't care at _all_. And when she ordered again, the bartender started to give her the same trouble, but, like, the biggest guy – Veledd, or something, his name was – showed the guy something, and then the bartender just got her order and brought it over.

Just like _that_.

_So_ cool.

Relm felt good. She felt wanted, and pretty, and bad, and dangerous, and just _awesome._ She felt a little dizzy, too, and kind of hot. But that was nothing to the white-hot _awesome_ pumping through her veins. She didn't care about _anything_, and because of that, the world was hers. It didn't get any better than this.


	4. Fading Away

Disclaimer/Rant: Oh, this is important: For those of you who have NOT played Final Fantasy VI all the way through, or at all, but HAVE played Kingdom Hearts II? That is NOT Setzer in KH2. It thinks it is but it isn't. Setzer from FFVI is NOT, in my opinion, the unearthly, fey, creepy pretty-boy they portray him as in KH2. Quite apart from the design, the personality is WRONG. He's NOT creepy like that, and he would NOT cheat in a contest just to get a stupid title every year. I doubt he would actually be able to contemplate participating in a sport called "Struggle!" without shuddering. So in reading this, _forget_ KH2 Setzer. I wish I could. To pre-emptively answer flame reviews this rant might spark, I don't have a problem with pretty-boys or gay people or people who act stereotypically gay. I don't have a problem with a game company having a pre-existing character be a cheater. I DO have a problem with them foisting characteristics, these for example, onto a character who did not, in my opinion, have them before. If Gerard from Shadow Hearts: Covenant showed up in a game and _wasn't _mincing around and hitting on your main male character, I'd have a problem with _that_, because he _is _prone to do those things. If Kain from the Legacy of Kain series showed up and gave a long spiel about how cheating is wrong, that'd bug me, too. Continuity. That's the thing. Thanks for bearing with me, if you didn't skip straight to the story. Oh, and the old guy? Mine. Don't steal 'im.

Chapter 4: Fading Away

Setzer slumped against a wall. He'd fended off the woman's attackers, and she'd managed to get away. He, on the other hand, was battered, bruised and bleeding. It seemed that tonight, every thug who didn't know his reputation was in town. With a wry grimace, he singsonged the incantation for the spell Cure to himself. Nothing happened, as expected. The weakest spells had been the first to fade into total uselessness. He chuckled ironically to himself, then winced at the pain. Removing magic from the world had stopped the wars, stopped Kefka's madness – but it had complicated other things. No longer could wounds be closed up with a few words and an effort of will. Specific antidotes to poisons had to be looked up and concocted again, where again a brief incantation would have sufficed. Of course, people could no longer make each other spontaneously combust with a gesture and a word. There was that. _Where was Relm?_

He had searched almost every alleyway in Zozo, and when he had asked at the pub and the Relic shop, the respective owners had just looked nervous and shifty and shaken their heads. Which was all he expected from them, really. He didn't really know why they stayed here. Sure, punks and thieves liked to drink, and Relics were in high demand, so the money here was good, but how could it be worth the risk? Setzer supposed they had their reasons. But this was not helping him find Relm. He –

A shadow fell across his face, and Setzer looked up. There was a figure at the mouth of the alleyway, silhouetted against the glow of one of Zozo's few street lamps.

"Who –" The gambler cleared his throat, at first having trouble speaking.

"Who are –" Again he stopped, remembering that "who" was a question few people in Zozo were likely to answer, except perhaps with "your worst nightmare, hur, hur," or "the guy what you're givin' your money to." He rephrased.

"Yeah, what do you want?" he snapped.

"I seek the light," replied the figure. Man's voice. Old.

"Right behind you, moth man," said Setzer, getting up painfully, turning to face the other.

"Why don't you go towards it and leave me be?"

"The light. The _light,_" said the other insistently. "Not the streetlamp, fool, the _light._ You were touched by the light."

"Yeah, that's… um… yeah," said Setzer warily, looking askance at the figure.

"You and them others. Saved the world from the light. Too much light, it burns. But now it's so dark…" There was an emptiness in the man's voice, a need.

Setzer's expression cleared as he understood. "You mean magic."

"Yes, yesss!" The man hissed, coming closer. "You call it magic, _your_ kind. To us… it is the light."

"_My_ kind?" said the gambler, again nervous. "You're no moogle, no sasquatch, no monster. You're the same kind as myself."

"Hah! Look like your kind, yes. Blend in. Easy, like the old man."

"The – "

"_Other _old man. Met him, you did. Warm stone, then. Cold stone, now. All gone."

Setzer straightened, feeling as well as hearing a crackle in his left leg. Bad news.

"Look, I'm sorry, I DON'T know what you're talking about, and I'd try to help you, but I can't. The magic – okay, the _light _– is gone, and I don't think it's coming back. And I have something I have to do now."

"Something to do, yes. Find the child. Like you, she glows. Oh, she _glows_. Touched _twice_, she was. Before she was born, yes, and after, the stones gifted her anew. The light _liked_ her." The old man came closer, and Setzer saw that his eyes were solidly coloured a faintly luminescent pale blue.

"What – what are you – how?"

"Not my fault! Got too human! Left behind! Last one left, I think, what isn't cold stone! But fading – so dark…"

"You're – no…" gasped Setzer.

"Yes, boy! Slow on the uptake, but you get there! I'm the last Esper in the World!" cackled the man, and glow from his pale eyes flashed momentarily brighter.


	5. Tako Trouble and Good Times

Rant: Sometimes I deeply, deeply despise computers. The secondary hard drive on my main work terminal just utterly tanked, and while I was working on the machine sans dead D, I suddenly got pretty coloured lines all up and down the screen. So now I have to wait while the thing does a full virus scan in safe mode before I can even start to TRY to START to reconstruct the templates for invoices etc. that we use every day. So if my writing style comes across as a little bitter this time round, you'll know why.

Chapter 5: Tako Trouble and Good Times

Setzer paused a moment, took stock, while the sky found new ways to make him colder and wetter.

"No, sorry, but no. I was there. Hell, I was partly responsible! No more espers. They're all gone, and even if they weren't, they'd die," he said to the old man.

"Heh! Know a lot, eh? Pretty sure of your facts!" cackled the old fellow, not fazed.

"Yes, actually. Look, I saw the esper HALF of a crossbreed removed by that phenomenon. One moment, white and lavender and shining, flying above the deck of the airship, next minute, human. If half of a person's ancestry was removed that precisely, I kind of doubt - " Setzer broke off.

But the removal _hadn't _been as precise as all that, had it? He'd been there, afterwards. At first it had looked like a clean removal of Terra's esper heritage had taken place, but later she had become feverish, maddened, confined to bed for some time. That made sense to him - you didn't abruptly lose half of what you were without some psychological effects. But psychology wasn't so great at explaining the sudden flashes of yellow in her eyes, the periodic blanching of her skin, and most of all the throbbing glow which had manifested when she was at her worst. She had stabilized eventually, but, no, the removal had not really been so surgically neat. So maybe -

"Thinking it through? No so sure of our facts now, mmm?" said the old guy into Setzer's ear.

Setzer lurched back. When had he gotten so close?

"Okay, maybe you are what you claim, but I can't help you right now, I've got to - Relm! _Why am I still talking to you!?_" Wild-eyed, Setzer shoved the man? ...esper? aside and dashed down the alleyway.

The old man laughed madly, then broke off, seized by a paroxysm of coughing. When he regained control of himself, he started walking in the direction the gambler had gone, the rain beating a tattoo on his hunched back.

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"Well, I don't know about you, but I think it's great. Supera Seditiosa is just the sort of recognition you deserve, and not before time," Locke said adamantly.

Celes looked around the lavishly appointed lobby, to see if anyone was listening in. "I don't know. I'm not really fond of these period pieces, and seeing Maria playing _me_ is just... strange. Did I really make a personal comment about your height when you rescued me that time?"

Locke snickered. "Yes. 'Aren't you a little short for an Imperial soldier?'" he mimicked, dodging as Celes swung at him. "I dunno about this guy playing me, though. No _way _I was _that_ cold to you when we met up again on the boat! I mean that was _harsh!_"

Celes glanced away. "Yes. It was."

A look of self-loathing crossed Locke's face. "I _was _like that? And I never really - my god, Celes, I'm - "

She made a cutting motion with her hand, dismissing the incipient apology. "You had cause. It looked bad. It looked like I'd rejoined the Empire."

"Why _did_ you not show up until - ?" Locke started.

"It's - complicated, okay? The Empire doctors patched me up, even after I tried to kill Kefka and DID kill those soldiers with him - and there was Cid - and Leo... it was just... complicated. I never did anything that would bring harm to you after I joined you the first time, though. It's important to me that you know that."

"Yeah. I know. I still remember that damned Gestahl, trying to drive a wedge with his innuendoes at that stupid 'reconciliation' dinner. 'About Celes...' Hah. I still remember how we were all unanimous in our response. 'Celes is one of us!' "

Locke's wife pulled him over and hugged him. "And you were right."

"Yup." He hugged her back.

The lights dimmed abruptly, then came back up.

"Whoops, looks like it's time for Act Two," Locke said.

They joined the crowd in shuffling their way to the theatre doors, then to their seats. They sat down.

"Umph?"

"What is it, dear?" asked Celes.

"Dunno, just - something on my seat. Feels like an envelope, with wax - I'll just open it - " Locke suited action to word, then lit a match, examining the object that had been deposited on his seat.

"Oh - oh, _no_."

"What, dear?"

"Look." Locke handed over the letter with an air of great fatigue and annoyance.

"Hmm. Let's see. 'Leave me out of your stupid opera, will you? I was there, too, ya know! Well, for old times' sake, I'm gonna mess this one up, too! Buhahahaha! - You-Know-Who' ... Oh, _no._"

"Yup. We certainly _do _know who. He _wrote _the _laugh._ Not getting any saner."

Celes sighed deeply. "Well, let's go tell Impresario, see about getting backstage."

"Yeah." _Why _were they never able to have a normal night out?

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"It's _so cool_, that you guys can get a private room here just like _that_, I mean it's not a great place, but still, oh, I don't mean it's a bad room or anything, I mean a private room, you know?"

Relm was babbling. She knew she was, but somehow she couldn't seem to stop. At first, when she'd realized it, she'd been all ready to be embarrassed, maybe even to just run out and go back to Setzer's place. But it was amazing - these guys didn't even seem to _mind _her running on and on - _that's _how cool they were.

One or two of them were even looking right at her as she talked, drinking it in, nodding every now and then. They seemed to be having a little trouble focusing on her _face _as she talked, but that was okay, she seemed to be having some trouble focusing ever since her last glass of, what was it called? South Figaro Cider? Anyway, it was _good_, and she didn't really mind their looking other places than her face, she'd got something to look _at_, now, and guys looking just meant it was working. She was no little kid! She suddenly realized she'd still been talking while she was thinking. She tried to follow what she was saying.

"So I just told him '---- you', right?"

"Yeah!" said one of the guys.

"You go girl!" said another.

This was so awesome.

"Yeah, '---- you', I said, and I figured I'd just go out and mix with the wrong sort, serve him right, yeah, just find some real lowlifes to hang out with and - "

Oh god. _Oh god. What _had she just said? What was she saying _now_!?

"-go to the seediest place around, and in _Zozo_, that's saying a lot, yeah? And... and..." she finally managed to clamp her jaws shut. Why had she _said_ that!? She wanted these guys to like her, to think she was cool, and she'd just... totally... blown it. Oh god. Her face got even hotter than it was already, and she started to get up, feeling tears prickling their way to her eyes.

"I'm - uh - I - sorry about that, really, I'm sorry I mentioned you were lowlifes -" _Oh god_. No! She couldn't even get an apology out right!

"Hey, lishen, girlie!" said one of the guys, anger filling his face like a wash of red paint, rising out of his chair.

The leader, Veledd, shifted. He'd been silent almost all of the time since they'd arrived, expressionless, watching Relm. Now he lifted a hand, palm out, gesturing for a halt. The other guy went white, suddenly, and sat back down.

"That's okay, Relm. We _are_ lowlifes, by the standards of Jidoor or Narshe or Tzen. We're bad sorts. But that's what you like about us, yeah? You like bad boys."

Oh, wow! _So_ cool! Relm nodded, the tears retreating.

"That's because you're a _real_ woman. And you're right - this place _is _a dump. We just come here 'cause it's closer to the marks."

'Marks!' Wow! These guys really _were_ criminals!

"So, Relm, real woman who likes her boys bad and knows a dump when she sees one, you want me to show you someplace better? A real bad-boy base? A real... den of thieves?" His stolid, expressionless visage abruptly flashed into a mischievous, puckish grin as he looked Relm right in the eyes.

Oh,_ wow!_ Oh, _wow!!!_

Overwhelmed by so much cool at once, all Relm could do was nod.


End file.
